The Orphans (Book 2): Surviving the Turned Read Online Free
Author: Mike Evans
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
pain and hers was out of grief. She had just lost the only thing in the world that she had left.
Chapter 3: Deja Vu
Day 2 - The home of retired Colonel Mike Webber
Mike Webber lay in bed looking at his nightstand. It was exactly 5:30 am; he still couldn’t sleep in, even years after retiring. It didn’t matter how tired he was when he went to bed, but he knew it was the product of a life-long military career. His wife was even worse though. Naomi, who had been the wife of a career military man, had been getting up even earlier all those years, as she was damned if her soldier would go to work in the morning without a full meal in his belly. Mike pushed up from bed and sat, resting his feet on the wood floor. He stretched his back out and felt every mile that he’d hiked in military boots with a pack on his back course down his old spine.
Mike had been dreaming of that night in the desert… but then, he almost always did. It was something he’d never been able to get over. He thought of the other men and women, long since retired, who were in that room on the night of the outbreak. They had come to the same conclusion that taking them out with the bomb was their only choice—that even as remote as the military base was in the desert, if those things got into the general population, they would decimate everything and everyone in their paths.
He walked out to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee, black. He blew on it, knowing already that it was too hot but still determined to get that first drink in the morning to ignite his senses, hence starting his day. He looked at the kitchen table and saw that it was empty. He then looked at the kitchen, noticing that the sound of bacon frying and eggs cooking were absent and the delicious smells weren’t enticing his nostrils. He walked out and saw his wife, Naomi, sitting on the couch, still in her nightgown with a large, pink robe wrapped around her.
He approached her, touching her lightly on the shoulder. She jumped with a scream and he stumbled backward, spilling his coffee down his crisp, white shirt and boxers. “Oh, for god’s sake, woman, what the hell has got you so damn jumpy?” He held a hand underneath the cup and placed it back on the counter.
Naomi said nothing; she just pointed at the television. Mike stared at it and could see nothing. He went back to the bedroom, cursing the entire way and found his glasses. He switched out his shirt and boxers for a clean set, adding a pair of Levi’s to the ensemble. He walked back out and took a seat next to her.
The CNN channel had eight separate windows up; all showing prerecorded video feed from hours before. Each of the feeds had a video of a large 747 Boeing airplane on it. Each plane was marked, displaying what company they flew for. He watched intently at the security footage from the Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris. A man in a red jumpsuit was driving a set of steps up to the side of the plane. In Paris, disembarking passengers were required to walk out and pass the security checkpoints before being allowed into the airport itself. It hadn’t always been that way, but after the events of September 11, very strict rules and policies had become a necessary requirement.
The man went up the steps, waiting for the door to open before pulling it the extra foot up to the side of the plane. When it did not open, he used the electric controls to pull it up tight next to the airplane and entered his code to unlock the door along with his key. The security cameras were not great, but they captured the very details that the rest of the world needed to know before making their own decisions about it. The ground crew employee peered into the side of the plane and, within a second, the footage showed the pudgy man running back down the steps.
Naomi yelled a Catholic
Chapter 3: Deja Vu
Day 2 - The home of retired Colonel Mike Webber
Mike Webber lay in bed looking at his nightstand. It was exactly 5:30 am; he still couldn’t sleep in, even years after retiring. It didn’t matter how tired he was when he went to bed, but he knew it was the product of a life-long military career. His wife was even worse though. Naomi, who had been the wife of a career military man, had been getting up even earlier all those years, as she was damned if her soldier would go to work in the morning without a full meal in his belly. Mike pushed up from bed and sat, resting his feet on the wood floor. He stretched his back out and felt every mile that he’d hiked in military boots with a pack on his back course down his old spine.
Mike had been dreaming of that night in the desert… but then, he almost always did. It was something he’d never been able to get over. He thought of the other men and women, long since retired, who were in that room on the night of the outbreak. They had come to the same conclusion that taking them out with the bomb was their only choice—that even as remote as the military base was in the desert, if those things got into the general population, they would decimate everything and everyone in their paths.
He walked out to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee, black. He blew on it, knowing already that it was too hot but still determined to get that first drink in the morning to ignite his senses, hence starting his day. He looked at the kitchen table and saw that it was empty. He then looked at the kitchen, noticing that the sound of bacon frying and eggs cooking were absent and the delicious smells weren’t enticing his nostrils. He walked out and saw his wife, Naomi, sitting on the couch, still in her nightgown with a large, pink robe wrapped around her.
He approached her, touching her lightly on the shoulder. She jumped with a scream and he stumbled backward, spilling his coffee down his crisp, white shirt and boxers. “Oh, for god’s sake, woman, what the hell has got you so damn jumpy?” He held a hand underneath the cup and placed it back on the counter.
Naomi said nothing; she just pointed at the television. Mike stared at it and could see nothing. He went back to the bedroom, cursing the entire way and found his glasses. He switched out his shirt and boxers for a clean set, adding a pair of Levi’s to the ensemble. He walked back out and took a seat next to her.
The CNN channel had eight separate windows up; all showing prerecorded video feed from hours before. Each of the feeds had a video of a large 747 Boeing airplane on it. Each plane was marked, displaying what company they flew for. He watched intently at the security footage from the Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris. A man in a red jumpsuit was driving a set of steps up to the side of the plane. In Paris, disembarking passengers were required to walk out and pass the security checkpoints before being allowed into the airport itself. It hadn’t always been that way, but after the events of September 11, very strict rules and policies had become a necessary requirement.
The man went up the steps, waiting for the door to open before pulling it the extra foot up to the side of the plane. When it did not open, he used the electric controls to pull it up tight next to the airplane and entered his code to unlock the door along with his key. The security cameras were not great, but they captured the very details that the rest of the world needed to know before making their own decisions about it. The ground crew employee peered into the side of the plane and, within a second, the footage showed the pudgy man running back down the steps.
Naomi yelled a Catholic
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